Carolina Moon

The Hollow Silence: K.C.

Marcus was behind the wheel of my old truck as we drove into town. The familiar rattle of the engine didn’t soothe me though. Every mile we drove away from the bungalow made me feel like I was a wire being stretched thin.

I felt an itch in the back of my skull that I couldn’t fully explain, and I couldn’t help the building anxiety that it was related to the Lowcountry Development Group. If it was a new “static” signal, it wasn’t as strong as the one in Kingsport had been.

But it was definitely more insidious. It was a low-frequency hum that made my wolf want to pace the interior of my ribcage.

Cypress Hollow was too quiet. Usually, at this hour, the hardware store would already be bustling, and the old men in town would be sitting on the front porch outside the general store. Today, the sidewalks were empty. People were peering through their blinds. They could tell something had changed, even if they didn’t know what or why.

We pulled up to the store. Marcus stayed in the truck, his eyes scanning the rooftops. I walked in, feeling unsettled, despite the familiar chime of the bell above the door. Old Man Grady didn’t greet me with the usual joke about my shoddy carpentry. He was stocking shelves with shaking hands. He looked at me — really looked at me — and I became hyper aware of the soot on my skin and the “Alpha” in my eyes.

He didn’t say anything though. I moved through the store quietly, gathering what was needed. Bottled water, dry rations, a few heavy-duty flashlights. I also moved to the back of the store where there was a small selection of basic “work” clothes. I grabbed a pack of tees, a pack of underwear, a pack of socks, and three pairs of jeans. Tess didn’t want me going back to the cabin, but I didn’t have clothes at her house.

As I was paying, I saw a black sedan, just like the one that had been outside the bungalow, idled slowly past the front window. Grady watched it go, then leaned in close. His voice was unusually quiet and grim, “They’re asking questions at the timber yard, Kayvan. Men in suits. They’re talking about ‘safety violations.’”

I had Marcus drive past the timber yard. I didn’t intend to stop, but I needed to see it. I needed to know what was happening in the town that had welcomed me.

The gate was chained shut.

There was a bright orange “Notice of Administrative Hold” sign plastered over the business sign that I could see from a mile away. I couldn’t help thinking about the other guys who worked there. The ones who had no idea why their livelihoods were being jeopardized.

As we drove past, I saw two men standing near the saw pit. They were holding a specialized device, some kind of sensor. I couldn’t see their readings from here, but I could feel the electrical hum radiating from it.

They didn’t care about the sawdust. They weren’t looking for safety violations. They were looking for the heart of the territory. I felt a surge of rage so potent that the half-down windows of the truck started to vibrate.

Marcus reached over, placing a hand on my forearm. It was attempt at comfort, at reassurance. “Not yet, Alpha. We don’t have the numbers to take back the yard, and hold the bungalow at the same time.”

On the way back, the junior Grady pulled us over. He’d been elected sheriff earlier this year after the previous one took an early retirement. He didn’t turn his lights on, he just simply pulled into the road in front of us. I rolled the window the rest of the way down as he walked up, his hand resting on his belt.

He’d been a friend ever since I’d moved to Cypress Hollow, but today, he looked like he was seeing a stranger. “You’ve been gone a couple days, K.C. Things have been gettin’… weird around here. These new folks from Charleston, they’ve got paperwork from the governor’s office. They say you’re a person of interest in a couple of fires down south.”

“I haven’t done anything down south,” I insisted as he leaned his forearms against the window. “I got sick, and Tess took me to a specialist in Charleston.”

“You got paperwork on it?” he asked, eyeing Marcus for a long time before bringing his gaze back to mine.

I shook my head. “Not yet. We’re waiting on the results of my tests.”

He was silent for a long while. Then he finally straightened. “Whatever’s followed you into town, K.C., make sure it stays behind your fence. I can’t protect you if the warrants start flying.”

“Thanks,” the word came out choked. My throat felt tight.

He nodded, and I watched as he walked back to his patrol car. My wolf’s hackles were raised, but he wasn’t snarling yet.

Once we pulled back into the driveway of the bungalow, some of the tension finally started to ease out of my shoulders. It wasn’t gone completely, but seeing that Holden and the others were standing sentry around the perimeter, brought peace of mind that Tess was safe.

She stepped out onto the porch before the engine even cut off, her phone clutched in her hand. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were bright, like a woman who had found exciting information.

I helped Marcus gather the bags out of the car, and walked up to her. I pressed my forehead against hers, and sucked in a deep breath of her vanilla scent.

“The yard is gone, Tess,” I whispered. “They’ve closed it.”